and trite. I want her to stop talking and go away so I can just get out of here. I turn away from her, pulling at the collar of the hospital gown again.
I grab the railing on the side of the bed and fumble for the buttons to lower the protective sides. “I need to get out of here,” I say, pushing the blankets and sheets down my legs.
Susan remains calm and tries to charm me into listening. “Honey, you’re not strong enough to get out of bed yet. You’ve only been awake for a few hours after sleeping for forty-seven days. It takes time to readjust.”
“No, I’m fine. I need to leave. I have to get out of here.”
Her tone quickly becomes stern. “Emma, if you try to get out of bed, I will have to sedate you.”
“No. No more sleeping. Please, I have to get out of here!” I irrationally plead with her.
There’s nowhere for me to go and no way for me to get anywhere. Staying put makes sense. But the rational part of my brain is not in control now. All I can think of is how badly I want out of this place.
She pulls a cord gruffly out of the wall. A page immediately rings out over the intercom. “Dr. Nolan, Recovery B. Stat. Dr. Nolan to Recovery B. Stat.”
“Why won’t you let me get out of bed?” I ask, beginning to cry. My breathing grows shallower and more rapid.
“You’re not strong enough yet, Emma. Your body has been through a lot. It needs time to heal. If I let you get up right now you could hurt yourself. I don’t want that to happen. Do you?”
“No, of course not. If you won’t let me get up, then at least get me a phone so I can call my dad. I need to talk to him.”
“Let’s try taking some slow, deep breaths first. You’re going to hyperventilate. I can help you if you’ll let me.”
“I don’t want to take deep breaths!” I snap at her.
The door flies open and Dr. Nolan rushes into the room. “What’s the problem?” he asks with a serious tone to his voice.
The nurse answers him. “She’s having an anxiety attack. I’ve been trying to talk her down from it but it’s not working. I didn’t want to sedate her without consulting you first.”
“Let’s start by pushing half a milligram of Ativan.”
The nurse leaves my bedside to get the medication as Dr. Nolan approaches me. “Hey kiddo, what’s going on?” he asks me, his voice softer.
“I need to get out of here. I can’t stay in this bed anymore. There are too many things I need to do.”
“What are you in such a rush to leave me for?” he asks light heartedly.
“I need to talk to my dad. I need to see Zoë. And Charlie. Is he here?”
“Zoë has been through a lot. She’s still in close observation and she’s in a quarantined room. Once we get her completely stable and a lot stronger, we will move her into a regular recovery room. As far as your dad goes, we have a plan worked out regarding getting you home. We can talk about it in detail once you’re feeling better.”
“What about Charlie? I need to talk him. He’s here somewhere.”
“I’ve been focused only on you and Zoë for over a year now. I’m not familiar with anyone named Charlie. Do you know for certain he’s here?”
Susan returns with a syringe full of clear liquid. I barely notice when she injects it in my intravenous line. Without skipping a beat, she returns to her paperwork, leaving Dr. Nolan and I to talk.
“No, I guess not. He’s a friend of mine. He was one of the people who was lost for a long time. I just assumed he was here.”
“I’ll check into it for you. If he’s here, I’ll tell him you want to speak with him.”
I fretfully nod my head. “Can you check now? I can’t just sit here doing nothing anymore. Charlie Parrish.”
He rests a hand on my shoulder. “First let’s get you comfortable in bed. You need to give your body a chance to get used to being awake again and get your muscles strong enough to support you again. I’ll send someone from physical therapy in later today to do a consult with you. We’ll get you up and moving before you know it.”
I open my mouth to argue but nothing comes out. The medication Susan gave me hits